


Fresh Bread

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Apartment AU, Eventual Smut, M/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-16 23:40:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1365991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new resident has moved into the empty apartment across the hallway from Castiel- and he's absolutely charming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fresh Bread

The silver bell hanging off the door jingled as it opened then shut to let in another customer.

'Good morning Castiel.'

Cas smiled and strutted up the counter.

'Good morning.'

His hands grabbed onto the edge of the glass counter. Ever since he first moved into his apartment next door, Castiel had traveled to the bakery each morning to purchase a loaf of bread. It was a small business, but one of the best places in town. It had a few tables and chairs set up by the walls and a counter at the front with a glass cabinet next to it with shelving. Following the ritual- Cas handed five dollars to Sebastian, one of the bakery workers, and received a loaf of their freshest wholemeal bread.

'Thank you Sebastian.'

As the bread touched his hand Castiel's spirit was always lifted. He _loved_ food. He loved cooking food, growing food, talking about food. He was addicted to the warmth of that bread he bought every morning. It was what would raise his body from his bed. Of course, some mornings he would buy one of the cakes or pastries that were so beautifully displayed in the glass cabinet. Or some mornings he would buy one of the jars of strawberry jam that Sebastian's mother would make herself.

Leaving the bakery, he took no notice of the usual beauties he would see each day- the light pouring in through the large window on the side of the wall looking onto the street, the disarranged wooden chairs and tables, the old faded posters on the wall for the drug store that was once there sixty years ago. The bell rang again, and he left the store.

 

'Mornin' Cas.' Jane, the elderly woman living in room 24 greeted him as he walked by.

'Good morning Jane.' He stopped and leaned against the wall. 'How are you?'

'I'm just fine thank you.'

Cas smiled. 'That's wonderful. Have a nice day.' He continued to walk up the hall.

'You too.'

The short hallway had ten doors, each for a different apartment, and two windows with a view of the buildings across the street. As he approached his apartment, he heard Bach playing from Mr. Lee's apartment as usual, then the barking of Eleanor's dalmatian. Finally he reached his green door.

 

After turning the shower on, Castiel slipped his socks off then unzipped the baggy blues jeans he had quickly dressed into. His shirt came off, then his underwear. The water, as always, was freezing cold to Cas's liking and twenty minutes long. It was after the shower timer beep prompted him to turn it off was when he heard the knocking at the door.

'Shit!'

Castiel quickly grabbed the green towel hanging up and escaped the bathroom. He frantically ran down the passageway, dodged the plastic basket of laundry, then clumsily tripped over the pair of shoes he had not seen.

'Fuck!' His front toe throbbed with pain. The knocking continued. 'I'm coming!'

Cas stood up, picked up his towel and wrapped it around his body again.

As he opened the door, he straightened his back and smiled.

'Hi.' He greeted. With the smile, then unknown man then spoke.

'Uh, hi, I'm Dean. I'm moving into the room across the hall.' He pointed to his door, number 29. Dean had short, dirty blonde hair, large green eyes and freckles on his nose and cheeks.

'I didn't know there was going to be a new tenant.'

Castiel _loved_ it when new people moved into the empty apartments of his hallway. He had never been a social butterfly, but Cas definitely enjoyed learning about others and what made them tick. He continued to smile, trying to ignore the pain in his foot, and opened the door further.

'Please,' Cas motioned to his living area, 'come inside. I'll make you some coffee.'

'Oh, no, I shouldn't. I still haven't unpacked anything from my boxes so... I should _attend_ to that.'

'Are you sure? It's no problem.'

Dean chuckled. 'I'm okay.'

Cas nodded and grinned. 'Okay. Well, it was nice to meet you.'

'It was nice to meet you too. Bye.'

'Bye.' He began to swing the door closed, when just before it fully shut he opened it up again. 'And Dean?'

'Yeah?' He turned around.

'I'm Castiel... Cas.'

Dean frowned. 'Castiel... nice.' He turned around to his door again.

With a sense of satisfaction, Castiel went back into his apartment and shut the door. It was always nice to meet new people. And perhaps Dean was going to become a friend? He dropped his towel and found some clothes, then attended to his food. He held an icepack on it for five minutes then covered the scrape on his foot with a band-aid.

 

On that fine, sunny morning Cas made pancakes- one of his favourite foods. He stood in his clean, sleek kitchenette at the stove, holding the handle of the frying pan as he cooked the thick yellow and brown circle. He wore a blue shirt with the sleeves pushed up and black skinny jeans. Yes, he had worn the same outfit the day before, but they were just as clean and just as stylish. Once he had two soft, golden brown pancakes he covered them in icing sugar and eagerly began to eat.

Whilst eating his delicious breakfast, Cas mentally planned out his day. At 10:30, he would continue to write his book, have a break at 1:00 to eat lunch, then continue at 1:30. For about a month he had been writing it. His deadline wasn't for another three months, and he was over halfway through it, but he was still eager to get it finished. At times, Cas didn't have the will to write. And that was normal. Some days he just didn't feel like it, but most days, he would be thrilled to sit down at his computer and have the words flow through his fingers.

 

Castiel's apartment had a large front room with the kitchen, the table and chairs by the window, and the sofa sitting in front of the TV planted on the wall. Past the wall with the television and his magazine stand was a passage with two doors- one leading into the bathroom and the other leading into the bedroom. And it couldn't get better than that. Cas had always adored his apartment. If he ever had to part with it, his heart would break. The walls of the living area were painted a turquoise like shade, the kitchen bench black with white cabinets, the couch red and the table and chairs yellow. He sat in his yellow chair, next to the window overlooking the street and with the ocean visible in the distance, and typed on laptop. Anyone in the room at the same time would have been driven crazy by the tap-tap-tapping of his keyboard. Sitting there typing never failed to relax him though. He kept a legal pad next to him with symbols, words and lines that only _he_ understood. Castiel knew what he was doing every time.


End file.
